Parental Attention
by RRyanForever
Summary: Discovered Truths sequel. Disaster occurs as Duncan and Richie struggle to bond.
1. Doting Fathers

Author's Note: Curious about the history behind this chapter? To understand what is going on, you need to read the prequel to this, "Discovered Truths", first.  
  
**************************************************************************** *  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Duncan could see exactly what he was doing and they both knew it.  
  
But Richie decided he might as well go ahead and state the obvious. "Moving this box upstairs."  
  
"Don't even think about it." The Immortal warned.  
  
But Richie was tired of giving in. Tired of sitting around all day. Tired of being treated as if he was going to break any minute. "Come on, Mac."  
  
"No, Rich." The Immortal interrupted. "I've told you before, no lifting."  
  
"It's been weeks. I feel fine." The teen tried to reason with him.  
  
However, that logic was having no effect on him. "Good. But you're still not doing any lifting yet. It's way too soon."  
  
"They're my ribs, Mac. Don't you think I know what they can handle?" Richie argued stubbornly.  
  
Duncan's reply was simple. "No."  
  
But he didn't want to be too overbearing. Richie was obviously getting very antsy sitting around all day. He wasn't totally unsympathetic, even though he didn't want the teen to know that. "How often is it that I want you not to do any work? Better take advantage of it while you can."  
  
"Fine." The teen tried another tactic. "Would you carry it up for me?" He would at least get to unload it. That was better than nothing.  
  
But Duncan wasn't fooled. "Sure. I'll unpack it for you, too."  
  
Seeing the boy's growing frustration, he decided it was time to soften his tactics a bit. Walking over to put an arm over his shoulder, he gently suggested another way to keep the teen busy. "Why don't you go see if Tessa needs any help?"  
  
"Great, computer work." Richie was not impressed with the suggestion.  
  
Duncan knew that would be the case before he even suggested it, though. He already had an alternate suggestion in mind. "You could go lay down for a while, if you like."  
  
"Fine, I'll go help Tess." The teen started past the Immortal quickly, hoping to escape before he once again ended up confined to his bed.  
  
"Slow down." Duncan warned. He smiled as the retreating figure slowed his exit to a snail-like pace. 


	2. Exiting Eden

Even as he promised Gary he'd be there, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Duncan would tell him no. There was no way that Duncan was going to let him go to the party. Ever since the Immortal had declared himself Richie's "parent" the man had been impossible. Well, at least most of the time.  
  
Richie had to admit that there were a few perks he appreciated. The first week he was laid up in bed had been pretty sweet, actually. The way Duncan and Tessa doted over him, making his favorite foods, buying him magazines and generally being at his beck and call had really helped ease his boredom. He didn't really even mind how nosey Duncan was being. Monitoring what he watched on TV, fussing over his injuries and constantly trying to get him to sleep had been flattering at first. But the teen had fully expected the babying to stop once he was on his feet. Instead, it had gotten worse.  
  
Duncan wouldn't let him do anything. No lifting, no bending, no standing for more than a minute at a time. Every time Richie tried to do something, Duncan would do it for him, insist he sit down or, worse yet, tell him to go take a nap. The teen had learned to dread his own bed. The first time he actually worked in the store, the man had him stretched on the couch in his office, allowing him to only dust small items that were handed to him. It was truly ridiculous. He knew there was no way he was going to be allowed out of the house, especially by himself. He went down the street for a burger a couple of days ago and, even though he knew it wasn't really possible, he thought the Immortal was having a heart attack when he got back. That's when Duncan told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was never, under any circumstances, to leave the house without letting the Scotsman know.  
  
It was a restriction that Richie didn't like. But he could get used to it. That is, he would have been able to get used to it, had that been all it took to leave. Sure, he was used to coming and going as he pleased but, if it really meant that much to the Immortal, he was willing to yell "Hey, Mac, I'm going out" across the store if it would keep the man happy. But it didn't. Every time he decided to leave the Immortal would either go in his place or, if he insisted on going out, then the man would tag along with him. For weeks, Duncan had gone everywhere he went. Richie couldn't handle the constant shadow any longer. Everywhere he turned, there was Duncan, beckoning the teen to his side. "Richie, where are you?" "Richie, come here." "Richie, are you feeling okay?" "Richie, Richie, Richie."  
  
"Richie. Earth to Richie." MacLeod's voice brought him out of his daydream.  
  
Putting down the phone he was still holding, Richie took a deep breath before turning to face the insufferable man. "Yeah?"  
  
"Are you feeling all right?" Duncan frowned as he approached the teen and raised a hand to the boy's forehead. "You don't seem yourself."  
  
"Mac, I'm." Richie paused in his defense. Suddenly, he knew how to get out from under the Scotsman's watchful eye. Instead of shrugging off the Immortal's hand, as he was accustomed to doing, he allowed the man to feel his temperature. "Actually, I'm sort of tired. Would you mind if I went to lie down for a few minutes?"  
  
"Tired?" Duncan's brow creased in worry. As he gripped the teen's arm and moved his hand to the back of the boy's neck, hoping to get a better reading of his temperature, his voice was filled with concern. "Do you feel all right?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm all right." Richie made sure to keep the joy out of his voice. Duncan was taking the bait. "I sort of have a headache, though."  
  
"Go get ready for bed." Duncan ordered. "I'll be there in a few minutes."  
  
"It's really early." Richie knew better than to go without at least a slight protest, he didn't want the Immortal to get suspicious.  
  
Duncan smiled at the teen, deciding it was best just to humor him. If he got him settled in for the night, the Immortal had no doubt Richie would be asleep before he knew it. "You don't have to go to bed yet. Just go get you pjs on and we'll watch some TV in your room, okay?"  
  
"All right." Richie turned towards his room, not wanting Duncan to see the victorious smile on his face. At the rate things were going, he'd be out of the house within an hour and the Scotsman would be none the wiser.  
  
As Richie walked out of the bathroom, a wave of guilt flowed through him. Duncan was already perched on the edge of the bed waiting for him, a glass of water in one hand and a couple of aspirins in the other.  
  
"Thanks, Mac." He said sheepishly, taking the offering from the man.  
  
Pulling back the bed covers and taking the empty glass back from the teen, Duncan sent a generous smile Richie's way. "That's what I'm here for. Come on, climb in."  
  
"It's too early to go to bed." Richie feigned a half-hearted protest as he climbed under the covers and allowed the Immortal to secure them around him.  
  
Settling down next to the teen, Duncan patiently replied. "You don't have to sleep, Rich. Let's just watch some TV, all right?"  
  
"I'm not going to sleep yet." Richie replied, guilt continuing to swarm through him.  
  
The arm Duncan wrapped around him didn't help. "I know. What do you want to watch?"  
  
Twenty minutes later, the Immortal switched off the television and shifted the silent teen off his shoulder and onto the pillow. After securing the blankets tightly around him and planting a quick kiss on the boy's forehead, Duncan quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Five minutes later, Richie was fully dressed and ready for a night of freedom. He just wished Duncan hadn't tucked him in. He was having a hard time shaking off the guilt of having lied to the man. But as he thought of being stuck in the house for yet another night of coddling, he rationalized the action. Duncan would never be the wiser. Quietly pushing the screen out of the window, Richie headed out to begin a night of adventure. 


	3. Party Hardy

For the fifth time in ten minutes, Richie found himself turning down a drink. He had forgotten how much alcohol was at parties like these. This was the first time he had come to one without the intention of getting plastered and, man, was it a difficult thing to do. Everywhere he turned, he was face to face with either a keg of beer or a drunk with a cup. His stomach churned slightly as he realized that most of the time, he looked as pathetic as everyone else around him; totally plastered and tripping over his own two feet.  
  
Then he had a realization. His friends were right. He had changed since he moved out of the neighborhood. Since when did he care about looking stupid because he was drinking? At least when he was drunk, he felt like he belonged. Sitting on the sidelines, turning down friendly offers and worrying that MacLeod would realize he was gone was hardly making him comfortable.  
  
Deciding to give up the choirboy routine, he turned to grab a beer. But as he popped the top, the music changed. Setting his drink on the nearest table, he moved to the middle of the floor. There was no way he was going to miss out on his favorite song. Stepping into what soon resembled a mosh pit, Richie allowed himself to get swept away in the music. Slamming into everyone around him as he did his best impression of Kurt Cobain, he finally remembered why he loved parties like this one.  
  
About fifteen minutes later, Richie began to realize that the throbbing he was feeling had nothing to do with the music. Duncan had been right about it being too soon to strain his sore ribs. While he hadn't snapped in two as the man implied, he definitely was not feeling so hot. As he walked over to a nearby couch, he began to regret his decision to come to this party. Not even a half an hour had passed since he had arrived and he was already miserable. Sure the dancing had felt liberating, but at what cost? He was sore and tired and wanted to be at home. And, frankly, he could care less about the people around him. As he sat at the party, he realized how out of the loop he truly was. No one here knew him at all anymore and he was beginning to realize that he liked it that way. After another fifteen minutes of being smashed into, yelled at over the music, offered drink after drink and inhaling more smoke then he would have ever thought possible without actually holding a cigarette, Richie started for the door.  
  
He couldn't help but sigh as he looked up at the clock. It wasn't even 10:30. The real action wouldn't start for hours. A few months ago, he would think this was a time to be arriving at the party, not leaving it. Even as he made his way out the door, he found himself pushing past those just arriving. He had to admit it; he had changed. He was no longer the carefree partier he had once been. It was not a welcome realization.  
  
As Richie approached the house, he was very glad that he had left the party when he did. Leaving early enough to catch a bus across town had been a real plus. He couldn't even begin to imagine how sore he would be if he had to walk the entire way home. Grimacing as he pulled himself through the window, he was relieved to see that his room was undisturbed. Quietly securing the screen and pulling down the window and blinds, Richie quickly grabbed the pajamas he had discarded on the floor and headed for his bathroom. There was no way he wanted to explain to MacLeod why he smelled like smoke.  
  
Throwing the attire from his outing into the hamper, he made a mental note to do his laundry before Tessa came for it. As he climbed into the shower, turning the hot water up to a point just below scalding, he sighed in relief. He could feel the tension leaving his body and the pain in his sides easing. He never thought he could be so happy to be home.  
  
The relaxation didn't last long. Within 30 seconds, he could hear Duncan calling him. "Richie? Rich, you all right?" The Immortal's voice was filled with concern.  
  
Damn. Richie had definitely not been counting on the Immortal hearing the running water. "Fine, Mac."  
  
"Are you sure?" Duncan's voice was getting closer and, as the bathroom door was pushed open, Richie silently gave thanks that he had remembered to toss his clothes in the hamper before his shower.  
  
He kept his cool. Duncan didn't suspect a thing. "I'm fine, Mac. I just wanted a shower."  
  
"You going to be long?" The Immortal was definitely planning to wait.  
  
Which was not what Richie wanted. "Yeah. Thought I'd drain the hot water."  
  
"You're sure you're all right?" Duncan really didn't like that response.  
  
But Richie was determined to get the man to leave. He really didn't want to face him now. Not after lying to him and sneaking out. "I'm fine, Mac. I just want to shower. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"  
  
"Good night." Duncan hesitantly called. Richie was more than a little grateful when he heard the bathroom door secure.  
  
20 minutes later, the teen trudged out of the bathroom, completely ready to collapse in his bed. He wasn't exactly surprised to find Duncan waiting patiently for him. "Mac, I don't need tucked in."  
  
"Climb in." The Immortal ignored the resigned protest. As the boy crawling under the covers, the Scotsman made a point of pulling the blankets up tightly around him. When Richie turned his back to him, he frowned. This was not what he expected. He was surprised at how long Richie was holding out. Silently, he began gently rubbing the teen's back.  
  
In a small voice, Richie finally broke the silence. "Mac?"  
  
"Hmm?" He replied patiently, continuing to give him a backrub.  
  
Richie couldn't stand it any longer. "You know, don't you?"  
  
"Know what?" Duncan prompted.  
  
But Richie turned to him, no longer fooled. "How did you find out?"  
  
"Give me a little credit, Rich. I wasn't born yesterday." Duncan retorted. "Hanging up the phone and then suddenly being ready for bed at 8 isn't exactly sly."  
  
"You knew before I left? Why did you let me go?" Richie was genuinely shocked.  
  
Even more so when Duncan responded with a shrug. "What would you have said if I told you no, you can't go?"  
  
"I would have been pissed." Richie admitted. "And I probably would have gone anyways."  
  
"And done something stupid like get drunk and stay out all night." Duncan added.  
  
Richie turned to look at him. "So you knew I'd have a bad time?"  
  
"I had my suspicions." The Immortal admitted.  
  
Causing Richie to have a sudden realization. "That's why you were so nice, isn't it? Tucking me in, kissing me good night. You did it to make me feel guilty."  
  
"I always tuck you in and kiss you good night." Duncan replied quickly, not wanting the teen to think his affection was faked. "I just normally wait until you're truly asleep. I wanted to make sure you knew you had a safe place to come home to tonight."  
  
"And to make me feel guilty." Richie added, a slight sulk detectible in his voice.  
  
Duncan couldn't suppress a slight smiled at the pout before changing the subject. "You got home pretty early."  
  
"Yeah, but I'm guessing you were expecting that, huh?" Richie replied, turning away from him again.  
  
The Immortal placed a hand on his shoulder. "It didn't surprise me."  
  
"So I'm in trouble, huh?" Richie replied sullenly.  
  
Duncan had to think for a moment before responding. "You had a miserable time?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." Richie replied.  
  
"You're gonna be sore in the morning?"  
  
"Already am."  
  
"You understand now why I don't want you straining yourself?"  
  
Richie's voice was sullen this time. "Yeah."  
  
"Will you listen to me from now on, or at least fight with me when you disagree, instead of just running off and doing your own thing without telling me?"  
  
"I promise."  
  
"Then I guess you've learned something from this?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I guess we'll let this be your warning, then." Duncan concluded. Getting up from the bed, he landed a solid swat on Richie's backside. Leaning over the startled teen, he made sure to use the most threatening tone he could muster. "Your only warning."  
  
As Duncan planted a loud kiss on his head, Richie couldn't help but ponder how much he had changed lately. He didn't relate to his friends, took orders from a man who should, by all rights, have been dead hundreds of years earlier, and felt guilty about lying and sneaking around. He was definitely not the person he had once been. He was losing his edge.  
  
Looking up at the Immortal, he suddenly realized he didn't care. He was tired and sore and had a miserable night. And here he was, tucked into a warm bed, with a guy who would walk through fire for him. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why on earth he had been pining for his old life.  
  
Watching Duncan head for the door, he decided to cash in on his new situation for all it was worth. "Are you leaving?"  
  
"Do you want me to stay?" Duncan replied, slightly startled by the question.  
  
Richie weighted the options. If he asked Duncan to stay, he would be fully giving in. It wasn't something he was entirely ready to do. As much as he had to admit he didn't mind his new "parent", he wasn't so stupid to tell the man that yet. Besides, he was willing to bet that the Immortal would stay if he implied he wanted him to and he would still be able to hold on to a shred of his dignity. "I was just asking."  
  
"Just asking, huh?" Duncan smiled at the vague response. Settling back down on the bed, he once again gently rubbed Richie's back. This time, though, it brought no added tension to the boy's posture and, instead, quickly lulled him to sleep. 


	4. The Morning After

There were days that he didn't mind the sound. And days that it was only slightly annoying. This was not one of either, however. As Richie turned over, ready to throw the antagonistic device across the room, he was surprised to see that Duncan had beaten him to it.  
  
Not throwing it. But turning it off, at least. As he gazed up at the entirely too alert looking man, Richie wanted to groan. He was not anywhere near ready to get up yet. Finally, he decided to face the true consequences of his previous night out and addressed the man. "Mac."  
  
"Morning, Rich." The Immortal replied as he carefully sat down next to the teen. "How're you feeling this morning?"  
  
"I'm all right." Richie mumbled, not really wanting to admit how much of a toll his previous night's trip had taken on him.  
  
Duncan, however, was not convinced. "Really?" Leaning over the teen, he gently ran his hand along the boy's ribcage.  
  
As Richie winced visibly, the ancient sighed. "Pretty sore, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." The teen admitted quietly, not really seeing the point of trying to hide it any longer.  
  
Duncan frowned down at him. "All right. Stretch out on your back for me."  
  
As the teen reluctantly complied, the Immortal carefully lifted up his shirt and closely examined the ribs. After a few minutes, he finally seemed satisfied. "Well, you don't seem to have done any real damage. You're probably just sore from too much activity."  
  
"I know." Richie replied quickly.  
  
Duncan pulled the shirt back down and once again carefully got up. "I'll go get you the heating pad and some aspirin. Try to rest, alright?"  
  
"Thanks, Mac." Richie called after him.  
  
***  
  
"I thought you said I could sleep in today." Richie grumpily mumbled at the sound of someone entering his room.  
  
Rolling over to see the visitor, the teen was startled when he realized that it was neither Duncan nor Tessa. A very large man, with a very unpleasant demeanor was not exactly what he had been expecting to see.  
  
***  
  
Bounding up the stairs towards the loft, Duncan casually made his way into the kitchen. Hopefully, no one would come into the store in the 30 seconds it would take him to grab a quick snack. Snatching a banana off the counter, he quickly decided to add a few seconds to his AWOL and check on the sleeping teen.  
  
Gently pushing the bedroom door all the way open, Duncan's heart dropped. As the banana made it's descent towards it's forgotten spot in the middle of the floor, Duncan processed the full meaning of the sword running through the note left on Richie's bed. 


	5. Alleyways

Groggily curling into a ball, Richie lifted his hands up to defend himself from whoever or whatever it was that was beating him upside the head. It took him a good 30 seconds in that position to realize that the man with the sledgehammer was actually inside his head and there was no one literally assaulting him.  
  
Forcing himself to focus in on something other than the construction crew running their drills across the inside his skull, the teenager pried his hands off his head and tentatively looked at his surroundings.  
  
Well, the good news was, he knew exactly where he was. The bad news was, it wasn't anywhere he had any desire to be. Now if he could only remember how on earth he had ended up sleeping in an alley.  
  
***  
  
"What does it mean?" Tessa demanded, staring at the note over the Immortal's shoulder.  
  
Duncan turned back to look at her briefly. "I have no idea, Tessa."  
  
"To inflict upon you 1/10th of what you have on me. This is only the beginning." Tessa read the note again for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Who do you think sent it?"  
  
"I have no idea." Duncan admitted.  
  
Tessa, however, was not satisfied with that answer. "You're sure it was an Immortal?"  
  
"Tessa." Duncan gave her a frustrated look. "It was attached to the bed with a sword."  
  
"Fine." Tessa told him hotly. "So now what? We just stand here and do nothing?"  
  
"Of course not." He returned.  
  
The Frenchwoman stared at him briefly. "We're still just standing here!"  
  
"I know!" He replied. "I'm trying to figure out what to do."  
  
"Go and find him." Tessa told him seriously.  
  
Duncan gave her a frustrated look. "Tessa, I have no idea where to even start looking."  
  
***  
  
It wasn't until his third attempt that Richie actually managed to sit upright. Which is when he realized that he was lying in a very nasty looking puddle. He groaned aloud. "Good Lord."  
  
Attempting to shift to his knees, he once again found the world around him spinning out of control.  
  
***  
  
"Duncan? Duncan!" Tessa's voice finally brought the Immortal back to reality.  
  
Not that he was particularly happy about it. "What?"  
  
"I said what are we going to do?" Tessa told him impatiently.  
  
The man shared that impatience. "You wait here. I'll call in every ½ an hour or so, to see if you've heard from anyone."  
  
"Where are you going?" The Frenchwoman asked, following him across the loft.  
  
Duncan turned to face her. "To look for him."  
  
***  
  
After what felt like a year, Richie finally managed to drag himself up the side of the phone booth and grab hold of the receiver. Smacking at the zero, he fervently hoped he could keep himself awake and alert long enough to get the operator to connect him. There weren't many things that were clear in his mind at that moment. In fact, the only thing he could remember clearly was Mac's voice. It was ringing in his head. Oh, wait. That was the phone ringing, not a voice.  
  
Who was calling him? The operator? Why was the operator calling him?  
  
***  
  
"I thought you didn't have any idea where he is?" Tessa asked accusingly.  
  
Duncan turned to her only briefly. "I don't."  
  
"Then where are you going to look for him?" The Frenchwoman questioned.  
  
Duncan didn't even pause this time. "I have no idea." 


	6. Phone Booth

It wasn't until he had gotten the last digit of the phone number out that the teen even realized he was talking. He knew the number was important but, as the annoyed woman on the other end of the phone abruptly made the connection, Richie just couldn't quite piece together why he was calling someone.  
  
He sincerely hoped the person on the other end of the phone would know what he wanted.  
  
***  
  
As Duncan absently shrugged on his coat, both he and Tessa turned to the sound of the ringing phone. Crossing the room in a few brief strides, the Immortal ceased the ringing with a sense of urgency. "Hello?"  
  
"Hello?" Came back the confused response in echo.  
  
Duncan, however, would have recognized the voice anywhere. "Richie! Richie, are you all right? Where are you?"  
  
"Right here." The stunned boy replied in utter confusion.  
  
The Immortal replied as calmly as was possible. "Where's here, Rich?"  
  
"The phone booth." Richie answered, deadly serious.  
  
Duncan, fortunately, recognized the confusion in the youth's voice even over the phone lines. "Are there any signs, Richie? Signs?"  
  
"Signs?" Richie repeated slowly.  
  
Duncan nodded, despite Richie's inability to see the gesture. "Signs? Street signs? Store signs? Read one, Richie."  
  
"Signs." Richie repeated absently.  
  
As Duncan impatiently waited for the teen to continue, he began to fear the request would never register. "Gibson's."  
  
"Gibson's? Gibson's Meat Market?" Duncan pressed.  
  
Richie's reply was, once again, noticeably delayed. "I'm not hungry."  
  
"Okay." Duncan replied, doing his best to remain calm and logical for the boy. "Sit down then, okay?"  
  
"Sit?" Richie repeated, completely lost.  
  
Duncan repeated the command firmly. "Sit."  
  
When the man heard a shuffle and the release of the phone, he silently gave thanks for the teen's compliance. He only hoped the youth would stay put long enough for him to get to the boy. Hanging up the phone quickly, he immediately headed for the door.  
  
"Where is he?" Tessa demanded, right on his heels.  
  
Duncan looked back distractedly. "I think by the docks."  
  
"I'm coming with you." The woman replied resolutely.  
  
The Immortal, however, was equally resolute. "No, he might call back. Stay here."  
  
"I'm coming." Tessa repeated earnestly.  
  
The Scotsman was growing frustrated. "Tessa."  
  
"Either we ride together or I drive myself." She interrupted firmly. "It makes no difference to me."  
  
It was one argument the Immortal wasn't going to win. With a slight nod of acknowledgement, he led the way out the door, only the pause of grabbing two coats delaying the woman behind him.  
  
***  
  
Pulling into the back alley with a slight squeal of the tires, both Duncan and Tessa were out of the car while smoke was still coming from the exhaust. Making a beeline for the only phone booth within blocks, the woman skidded into the back of her lover as he stared at the bottom of the booth. It wasn't only the vacant state of the booth that disturbed the woman. The streak of fresh blood across the bottom added to her terror. 


	7. Under the Boardwalk

Frantically looking around for any sign of the missing teenager, Duncan's eyes lit upon the distant water. Despite the fact that there was no indication that Richie had headed towards the dock, the Immortal made a beeline towards it with Tessa close at his heals.  
  
Looking at the dark, still water the Immortal prayed that he was wrong. Richie wouldn't have gotten in. Would he?  
  
Suddenly, it dawned on him that the air didn't sound quite right. Listening carefully, he quickly realized that there was a very faint sound of panting coming from beneath him. Immediately dropping to his stomach, Duncan eased himself to the end of the dock and peered underneath. To his great relief, two very bright eyes were staring back at him.  
  
"Richie?" He asked as calmly as he possibly could.  
  
The teen, neck deep in water and clinging to the post that held up the dock, slid partway behind the post and peered up at Duncan with terror in his eyes.  
  
His very confused and cloudy eyes, the Immortal noted with increasing trepidation. Continuing to hold Richie's gaze, Duncan slowly and calmly addressed the woman clinging to his back. "Would you go get Richie's coat please, Tessa?"  
  
When he felt the woman depart, the Immortal once again focused his attention on getting the confused and terrified boy to safety. More than anything, he wanted to dive into the water and pull the shivering child out. But the rational part of him knew that the teen might think he was being attacked. If it was possible, the Scotsman knew coaxing the boy out would be much safer in the long run.  
  
"Richie? Partner?" Duncan said softly, being sure to remain still, despite the feeling of blood rushing to his head as he hung over the edge of the pier.  
  
Blinking up at the man, the teenager hesitantly responded. "Mac?"  
  
"That's right, it's Mac." Duncan said quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, considering how frightened and confused the teen was. "It's okay now. I'm here. Can you give me your hand?"  
  
"Yeah." Richie replied dully after a long pause, still not releasing his grip on the pier.  
  
Cautiously, Duncan stretched his hand out under the pier and placed it within inches of Richie's, patiently waiting for the teen to grip it. After what seemed like hours, the boy finally released one hand from the pier and placed it in Duncan's.  
  
Carefully securing his grip around the limp appendage, Duncan slowly drew the boy out from under the pier as Richie numbly released his hold on the pier and allowed himself to be guided out by the Immortal.  
  
Tessa, who had returned from her sprint to the car, was shocked when Richie appeared from underneath the dock. As Duncan pulled the boy from the water with a deep grunt, the Frenchwoman was more than a little relieved. After quickly wrapping the teen's coat around him, Tessa stood helplessly by and watched as the Scotsman further cocooned the drenched child in his own coat and lifted him into his arms. Turning quickly, Tessa lead the way back to the car.  
  
***  
  
Walking into the loft behind Tessa, Duncan stopped momentarily to adjust his grip on the teen. The Frenchwoman was immediately wary. "Is he all right?"  
  
"I just needed to get a better grip, Tess." The Immortal soothed, continuing to follow the woman into the house.  
  
The woman looked back over her shoulder worriedly. "Richie?"  
  
"Huh?' The teen replied blankly, looking in the general direction of Tessa's voice.  
  
Duncan sighed at the teen's lack of recognition of what was happening. "Nothing, Rich. Everything's all right."  
  
"Would you make him something to eat?" Duncan now questioned the woman. "I'm going to get him cleaned up."  
  
"Sure." Tessa replied, walking into the kitchen with purpose.  
  
***  
  
Within 30 minutes, Richie was clean, warm and full. Much more coherent, the teen was befuddled to find himself tucked up in multiple blankets on the couch. Looking around in confusion, Richie found himself listening intently to the conversation going on in the kitchen in an attempt to gain some perspective into what was going on.  
  
"Is he in bed?" Tessa questioned quietly, not wanting to disturb the teen if he were sleeping.  
  
Duncan, however, was not concerned about that in the slightest. "No, he's on the couch. He probably has a concussion, I want to keep him up for a few hours to be on the safe side."  
  
"He seems all right though?" The Frenchwoman pressed worriedly.  
  
"He's got a goose egg on his head." Duncan answered honestly, knowing better than to lie to Tessa. "And it looks like he got knocked around a bit. I'm sure he'll be pretty sore for awhile."  
  
As Tessa's bright eyes filled with tears, the Immortal immediately reassured her. "Don't worry, Tess. He'll be all right. We'll take good care of him."  
  
"Of course we will." The Frenchwoman replied dismissively, not ever having doubted that for a second. "I just hate to see him in pain. He hasn't even fully recovered from getting attacked last month."  
  
"I know, sweetheart. I know." The couple silently held onto each other for a moment, taking comfort from the other's strength and commitment to the teenager in their care. Finally, Duncan broke the embrace. "I'm going to go check on him. Make sure he hasn't fallen asleep."  
  
"I'll finish cleaning up." Tessa quickly replied. "I'll be along in a few minutes."  
  
"All right." Duncan replied, already on his way to the living room.  
  
Looking at the much more alert teen, the Immortal provided his most reassuring smile. "Hey, you. How're you feeling?"  
  
"Confused." Richie replied honestly, moving over slightly to allow Duncan to perch next to him on the couch. The teen allowed the Immortal to check feel his forehead and carefully begin probing his head for bumps before protesting. "Mac. Don't fuss."  
  
"Does your head hurt?" The Immortal questioned, pausing to smile slightly at the relief that Richie's protestations provided.  
  
Richie, however, was far from amused. Or relieved for that matter. "You can only imagine. What happened to me, Mac?"  
  
"You don't remember?" The Immortal probed gently, not wanting to taint any information the boy might be able to provide him.  
  
Richie, however, had absolutely nothing to offer. "I was sleeping in my room. Then the next thing I remember is an alley. And then you. Where you hanging off a dock?"  
  
"Yep." Duncan replied, glad at least that Richie was remembering parts of the day.  
  
Richie gave him an odd look. "Why?"  
  
"Because you were underneath it." The Immortal replied mildly.  
  
The teen groaned in realization. "I was hiding under the dock."  
  
"'Fraid so. Are you starting to remember?" The Scotsman pressed.  
  
Richie squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah, sort of. My head is killing me, though."  
  
"Don't push too hard. You've plenty of time to remember." The Immortal soothed.  
  
Richie's expression relaxed and he mumbled his next comment. "Thanks, Mac."  
  
"No, no." Duncan replied firmly. "Eyes open, partner."  
  
Richie glared at him through now partially open eyes. His voice was noticeably whiny as he drew out the three-letter word. "Mac."  
  
"You've got a nasty bump on the head. You're going to have to humor me on this one." Duncan told him patiently.  
  
Richie sighed in exasperation. "Whatever."  
  
After a few seconds of silence, the teen began to question the Immortal. "Any idea why this happened?"  
  
"Well," Reluctantly, Duncan answered the question. "There was a note."  
  
"For you?" Richie replied, fully opening his eyes to regard the man.  
  
Duncan's feelings of guilt were evident on his face. "I'm so sorry, Rich."  
  
"No worries." Richie replied easily, shrugging. "After all you've done for me, I owe you at least one kidnapping."  
  
"Don't ever say that, Richie." The Scotsman told him firmly. "You don't owe me anything. And you certainly didn't deserve this."  
  
The teen nodded briefly in acknowledgement, then quickly thought better of the action when his head began to spin. After a brief pause to compose himself, the teen once again questioned Duncan. "You have any idea who it was?"  
  
"Not yet." The Immortal admitted reluctantly.  
  
Richie wasn't exactly surprised. After all, if Duncan had taken care of the situation that would have been the first thing the Immortal had told him when he had woken up. "An Immortal?"  
  
"It looks like." Duncan answered.  
  
Richie looked over at him for a moment. "Bummer."  
  
"I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe, Richie." Duncan vowed.  
  
Richie gave him a slight smile before once again shutting his eyes. "I know."  
  
"Uh-uh." Duncan said firmly, and then deliberately raised his voice. "Stay awake, Richie."  
  
"Mac." Richie once again whined, looking tiredly at the man.  
  
Duncan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, partner."  
  
"So how'd you know I was under the dock?" Richie questioned after a minute.  
  
Duncan looked down at him. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I just did."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you did." Richie replied sincerely.  
  
"Me too, Richie. More than you'll ever realize." Duncan smiled broadly at that, and then leaned over to arrange the blankets more securely around the teen and brush some stray hairs out of his eyes. 


	8. Family Bonding

Taking one last peak into the sleeping teen's bedroom, Duncan reluctantly forced himself to head for his own warm bed. Not that he was dreading sleep. After the activities of the day, a good rest was more than a little needed. It was the fear of what might happen as he dozed.

Realistically, he knew that his room was positioned near enough to the teen's that an Immortal's presence anywhere near the boy's vicinity would be immediately known to him. And he did know that the worst of the concussion had passed, as the last few hours with the terrifically cranky teen had proved. Not to mention the fact that he would be able to hear the boy if he stirred, courtesy of the strategically placed monitor he had wisely hidden from the lad's view.

The only problem was, he wasn't feeling all the realistic. Rationales weren't working. The fact was, the last time he had left Richie sleeping peacefully in his bedroom, the teen had been snatched away. And for no real reason. None that he knew of, at least.

Climbing restlessly into his bed, the Immortal found himself more determined than ever to figure out who was after the teen. And why. No one was going to hurt his family and live. End of story.

* * *

Sitting bolt upright, Duncan was tearing down the hallway towards the teen's room at lightning speed. The light rustling coming across the monitor had brought him to attention. Richie's tentative questioning of 'who's there' surged him into action.

Throwing the cracked door back hard against the stop, the Immortal desperately scanned the room. The startled yelp was not what Duncan had anticipated encountering.

"Duncan! What on earth is the matter with you?" Tessa demanded, attempting to compose herself after the unexpected intrusion.

Richie, however, had a slightly different response. Laughter. Near hysterical laughter.

The unexpected outburst alarmed his over-protective guardians. Duncan was the first to address him. "Rich?"

"Richie?" The woman echoed the Immortal's inquiry. "It's alright, sweetheart. Shh."

After a few more seconds of intense laughter, the teen was able to compose himself enough to address the concerned adults. "He thought...oh, God...he thought you were..."

"Richie." Duncan's concerned voice only intensified the humor of the situation for the teen.

Taking a deep breath, the boy was able to calm himself enough to gasp out. "He thought you were a kidnapper, Tess. Oh, man. Good stuff."

Exchanging a glance over the teen's head, the couple smiled in relief at the boy's ability to see humor in the situation. As Richie continued to laugh, Tessa too began to giggle. When Duncan started chuckling it was all over.

* * *

Groaning as the incessant alarm forced him out of a sound sleep, Duncan rolled over to smack it silent. Looking over at the undisturbed woman to his left, the Immortal shook his head briefly before pulling himself to his feet.

Heading towards the bedroom door, he squinted at the light glaring through the window. After trudging his way down the hallway, he slowly pushed back Richie's bedroom door, not wanting to disturb the teen's rest.

Looking at the abandoned bed, the man's heart immediately went into his throat. Half whispering, half screaming, the man called out, "Richie!"

"Yeah?" The teen questioned from behind him.

Swinging around to take in the sight before him, the Immortal was never happier to see the boy chewing on a donut in all his life. Pulling him into a hard hug, Duncan finally exhaled.

"Ahh, head. Ease up, Mac." The teen told him, attempting the keep both his head from throbbing and his donut for being crushed at the same time.

Smiling, the Immortal pulled away. "Sorry, partner."

"What's wrong with you, Mac?" The teen questioned, taking another chunk out of his donut.

Shrugging, the Immoral pulled the last bit of empty calories from the teen's hand. "I thought you were stolen."

"Stolen?" The boy repeated.

Earning himself a smile from the old man. "Stolen."

"As a matter of principal, I only permit one kidnapping a week." The teen told him flatly, snatching the last bit of his breakfast back from the man.

Duncan raised an eyebrow skeptically. "One a week?"

"One a week." Richie confirmed.

"We really need to work on those principals." The Immortal told him, losing yet another hopeless battle as the teen stuffed the last of the donut into his mouth.


	9. Another Night on the Town

Winging another card at the broadcasters head, Richie sighed in frustration as he hit the man square between the eyes. Normally, he didn't mind hanging around the loft. Chillin' at home was relaxing. But between Duncan's hovering and Tessa's constant 'checking in' the relaxation was grating on his last nerve. Walking over to the phone, he listlessly dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Scott, hey man. What's going on tonight?" The teen questioned as his friend got on the line. "No, sounds good. No, they'll be cool. All right. Give me an hour? Right."

Hanging up the phone, Richie quickly headed back for a shower. He needed a chance to rejuvenate before taking on the monster task of convincing his over-protective employers to grant him a reprieve.

* * *

Pulling on a sock, Richie pretended not to notice the angry glare coming from the looming Immortal. Reaching over to grab a shoe, he was startled at how quickly it was snatched away. 

"Tessa, come on. I'm gonna be late."

"Good." The woman replied defiantly.

Earning herself an annoyed look. "Tess."

"How can you be so foolish, Richie? You've barely had time to find the refrigerator since you were last kidnapped and you want to go traipsing about all over town?" The woman questioned angrily.

Grabbing at the shoe in her hand, the teen attempted to reason with her. "What am I supposed to do, Tess? Spend the rest of my life cowering in the loft? Hide behind Mac every time a car alarm goes off?"

"Not for the rest of your life. The rest of the week, though, at least!" The woman shot back, refusing to relent and release the shoe.

Rolling his eyes, the boy looked up at his unexpected ally. "Mac, help me out here."

"Give him his shoe, Tess." The Immortal said simply before heading back into the kitchen.

Throwing her lover a deadly look, the woman allowed Richie to snatch away his property and shove it on his foot.

Watching his totally unexpected ally leave the room silently, Richie continued to ignore the feeling the more than obvious fact that Duncan's acquiescence was a poorly disguised lie. At this point, he didn't care what the Immortal's ulterior motives were. All he cared about was that he was actually being permitted his freedom.

As the teen made his way towards the bathroom, Tessa turned her attention back to the Immortal. Giving him an unreadable look, the woman questioned in an equally unreadable tone. "So?"

"So what?" Duncan replied.

The woman wasn't buying the feigned ignorance, though. "So, why did you say yes? What are you thinking?"

The man sighed audibly. "What would be the point of saying no, Tess? That way he can sneak off without telling us?"

"So you give your blessing? This is better?" She shot back.

MacLeod was prepared for that argument, though. "Telling him I won't stop him isn't exactly the same as giving my blessing. Besides, at least this way I know when he's leaving."

Looking up at the man, Tessa blinked, realizing his meaning entirely.

"You're going to follow him, aren't you?" She questioned.

Giving her a slight grin, the man did his best impression of the teen in question. "Duh."


End file.
